Parasitic Worm
by Firestarter8635
Summary: She didn't know where she got these powers from, or why she did. But she would be dammed if she didn't use them to do some good in her city for once, even if they weren't exactly the most heroic of powers.
1. 1-1

**Hello again, I'm back with a new story! Hip hip, hooray! **

**So I had this idea in my head for a long time, and I thought, why not write it down? And so here we are.**

**I'm also gonna be rewriting my other fanfic, Spartans Never Die, so keep watch for that.**

**Now onto the story!**

* * *

She was a parahuman, there was no doubt about that. She knew that from the moment she accidentally cut her finger open while cutting fruits and watched the wound seal up right before her eyes. She knew it the moment she crushed a fork in her hand in anger, thinking about everything the Three Bitches had done to her that day. She had always wanted to be a hero, to have powers, to be able to stand alongside Alexandria, Legend, and Eidolon as they rushed into battle against Leviathan, to be able to look over the city as its protector, knowing that the streets were a little bit safer, thanks to her. And it looks like she finally got her wish.

God. Fucking. _Damn._

* * *

The annoying alarm, the bane of my life, screeched its irritating screeching sound. My eyes shot open. My hand shot downward before it suddenly stopped overhead, I, suddenly remembering just how strong I was now, decided that I did not want another broken alarm, and slowly dropped my arm down until I finally pressed a button on the alarm, finally making the screeching sound stop.

I laid in bed for another minute before finally getting up, with none of the sleepiness or grogginess present that you would normally expect in a person. I didn't need to sleep anymore, not since the locker, but I still did it anyway. Just because I didn't need it didn't mean that I didn't like sleep. Sleep was a pleasant thing, a place where I could look upon clean streets that people had no fear of crossing, a place where Emma didn't turn into complete psycho, a place where all my fantasies came true.

I wished real life was more like my dreams.

I stood up and, after looking looking in the hallway to make sure that my father wasn't standing there, quickly changed. Except it wasn't how normal people changed. Instead my pajamas seemed to melt into my body before another set of clothes, a black hoodie with black sweatpants, seemed to flow out of me, a greenish-black smoke coming off of me throughout the process. It was just another aspect of my frankly very useful powers.

To complete my look, I picked up a pair of glasses and, after looking at them for a moment, put them on. My vision had automatically corrected itself after I got my powers, but nobody else knew that, and I didn't want anyone to know that, so I continued to wear them, albeit with fake lenses instead of my prescription ones.

I looked at the figure in the mirror for a minute. I was always self-conscious about my body, my too-wide mouth, large eyes, flat chest and my gawky figure. In fact, the only feminine feature I had was my hair that I got from my mother, which I took great pride in.

But holy shit did my power make it worse.

I brought my power all the way to the max, letting go of the limiters I had placed on myself. At first, nothing happened. Then, my skin started changing, turning into a sickly pale, with outlines of veins appearing all over my body, and my eyes started glowing green. At this point, I looked more like a freaky human experiment than a person. Fitting, that my power made me uglier than I already was.

I shifted back into my base form with nothing but a thought, feeling a large amount of strength drift away as I did so. Finally, I nodded, satisfied that my appearance wouldn't draw any extra attention, and made my way downstairs.

My father was sitting on the couch in the living room when I went down, reading a newspaper that he picked up from… somewhere. Surprising, considering he usually didn't get up this early. He smiled weakly as I came down. "Hey Taylor, how was your sleep?" he asked.

He tried, oh, he tried. But he couldn't really help me with my problems. Ever since mom died, dad started becoming increasingly depressed, and I even had a suspicion that he was drinking heavily at night. And I didn't want to add to the already long string of issues, fearing that any more problems and the feeling of utter hopelessness that would often come along with them would be the straw that broke the camel's back. So, I put up a show for him, making him believe that everything was fine, when in fact, everything was not alright.

So, I tried to force a genuine smile up to my face, or at least a smile that seemed genuine, and said, "It was great dad, how was yours?" I hated lying to him. But I had. It was an unfortunate fact of life, that sometimes you had to lie to the ones you love.

"It was good, slept like a baby," he said. From the look on his face, he bought the smile. We awkwardly stared at each other for a minute before I cleared my throat.

"I'll just have breakfast now, alright?" I said. He nodded and I went into the kitchen.

Another thing that went to shit after mom died was my relationship with my dad. At this point, we were more like strangers who just happened to live in the house together father and daughter.

I finished eating my breakfast, some leftover lasagna from last night's dinner, and headed towards the door, intent on going out for my morning run, but before I could head out, Dad stopped me.

"Hey, Taylor, I know things aren't going so well right now. But i just wanted you to know that everything is going to be alright. Ok?" he said to me. I nodded. It was a lie, and both of us knew it.

But just this once, I so badly wanted to believe it.

* * *

Now, I know what you might be thinking. 'Hey Taylor, if you have a power that multiplies your strength and speed, why do you need to go out on runs each day.' Well, I do, two reasons. Reason number one is the keyword: 'Multiplies.' Each day I bring down my power to its absolute minimum, to the point where I was just a baseline human, and run for a while. Usually just a couple miles around the area near my house. I never wanted to stray too far away just in case I had to run home real quick.

Anyway, I also found a convenient way for my power to help me out in my quest to become more physically fit. After each time I run, and I bring my power level back up, my muscles repair almost instantly, heavily increasing the gain I get from exercising. It was only about 3 months since I started running, yet my speed and stamina already underwent heavy improvement. I mean, I didn't really get tired when I was at anything but a baseline human level, but my speed was very important. Before, I could run at maybe 13 m/s max. Now though, I was able to reach 20 m/s pretty easily.

The second reason that I ran every morning was that it gave me time to think and clear my head.

I already knew what I wanted to do with my power: I wanted to be a hero. But how to go about doing that? The first thing that came to mind was the Wards. In it, I would be able to get large amounts of resources, training, and facilities to help further my hero career. I would be able to further test my powers and gain access to a large sum of knowledge that I hadn't known before. There would also be a dedicated PR team working to sell my heroic image to the public, which was important especially considering how villainy my abilities made me look. And lastly, well, everyone knew the Wards went to Arcadia. So hopefully, the Wards would be able to get her out of the shithole that was Winslow and away from the Three Bitches. And considering that I didn't know whether or not I would be able to get through another month or two without murdering one of them, it was definitely something I should consider.

Downsides were that the Wards were heavily restricted in what they could do. They were mostly delegated for PR patrols and relatively small crimes where there was no Protectorate member available to respond. There was the teen drama aspect as well. Something that I'm not too sure I wanted to get into.

There was also the fact that I had a severe distrust of authority after Winslow, but that didn't really matter right now. Right now I should be thinking _logically_, not emotionally.

The other choice I had was to become an independent. Upsides were that I wasn't as restricted in what I could do, and I didn't have someone constantly looking over my shoulders giving me orders. Downsides were that I was basically alone. Sure, registering with the Protectorate would grant some resources, but it was barely a drop in the bucket compared to what the Wards got. And, unless I joined a team or made one, I wouldn't have anybody backing me up, which was really undesirable for me.

So, in the end, I could either join the Wards or not join the Wards. Ah, the joys of teenage decision making.

I pushed those thoughts aside as my street came into view. Right now, it wasn't time for life changing decisions.

It was time for school.

* * *

**So if you couldn't tell already, this is Taylor with the powers and abilities of the Skulls Parasite Unit from MGSV:TPP, albeit heavily modified. **

**What should Taylor's cape name be? I still haven't figured out a good one yet and I would like it if you guys tell me your thoughts.**

**Feel free to point out any mistakes I made in this chapter.**

**Please review and shit.**


	2. 1-2

**So, I'm back. With another chapter. Yay.**

**I'm not going to be responding to stuff like "this fic is great" or "Awesome!" or "This is the most fugliest thing ever, of all time" It's basically the same response for most of them, and I'm not gonna waste my time saying "thanks" and "your opinion has been noted" over and over again. But with that out of the way, onto the review of the reviews.**

**edboy4926: Taylor doesn't have the same damage done to her body that Quiet does, so she's not going to be like Quiet in that way.**

**superpiece: I'm thinking more of a literary reference, like ElDragonRojoX mentioned.**

**Blinded in a bolthole: Yeah that basically describes this Taylor. As for Master/Trump powers, well, you'll see how they come up.**

**DapperDalton: Again, I'm thinking more along the lines of a literary reference.**

**Dracomancer1: If you're talking about the difference in perspectives between the first paragraph and the rest of the chapter, that's supposed to be like that. If not, then I'll go back soon and fix it.**

**ElDragonRojoX: Yeah, thanks for the idea about the literary reference. I focusing on names like that now, and I got quite a few rolling around in my head. So, yeah, thanks.**

**Anastor: She's a mishmash of all three, but without the mental deficiencies (well, most of them at least) that the regular Skulls have. Yes, she does have metallic archaea, and no, I'm not saying anything more.**

**Onto zhe story.**

* * *

Back when my dad was in high school, Winslow High used to be one of the most exceptional high schools in the state. Kids from all over the city would be clamoring for a spot in the prestigious school. It was a shining example for American public schools all over the state.

Now though, it's, quite frankly, a complete and utter shithole. Now it's a big rundown piece of shit covered in gang signs and graffiti that were spray painted all over. Kids now flaunted gang colors instead of new clothes. Weapons would be brandished whenever two groups from rival gangs crossed paths, and fights would often break in the hallways.

Did I mention the fact that the staff at Winslow should be arrested for criminal negligence, corruption, and probably a few other laws that I couldn't think of right off the bat? Yeah, it's probably the most horrific case you've ever heard of. Each time I tried to complain about a new instance of bullying, they would just brush me off. Emma covered me in juice? Oh stop it, Taylor, we both know you spilled it on yourself. Sophia pushed me down the stairs? No evidence to prove that she did that. Madison stole my homework? Don't lie Taylor just to cover up your own mistakes. And this went on for _one and a half fucking years_. And nothing was ever done, not even a brief look at the Three Bitch's actions.

And the locker incident, oh that made me want to go murder Emma, Blackwell, and everyone else who had been involved in it. I had been shoved in a locker full of used tampons, pads, and other toxic items that had been rotting for over two weeks, and left in that thing for _five_ fucking _hours._ I was only let out when a janitor opened it for me. Apparently he had slipped and knocked himself unconscious, which was probably why he couldn't remember coming upstairs or why he did. Probably a good thing that he did knock himself out, I myself had blacked out at some point, presumably when I triggered. I couldn't imagine what would happen if he pass by without me being awake to alert him of my presence in the locker.

Still, though, this was the kinda shit that should get a biohazard team in the school yet. And yet, nothing was done. All the school did was offer to pay the medical bills, and that was it. There was absolutely no investigation done after this horrific 'prank.' They probably didn't even report it properly. They just sat there and acted like nothing ever happened, that I wasn't shoved into a locker with toxic waste for hours on end, that a one and a half year bullying campaign hadn't happened, that everything that happened to me was my fault and oh god I wanna _fucking KILL THEM._

…

Alright, calm down, Taylor. Murder never helped anyone.

…

Which was why I was stuck here, in this bathroom, eating lunch in a cubicle, away from the lunchroom, away from all the taunting and jeering. It was one of the few times I could get some peace and quiet, alone, without Emma, Sophia, Madison, or any one of their lackeys. It also served as a place to calm down so I didn't go on a murder spree in the school

Of course it had to be fucking ruined.

The bathroom door slammed open, and judging from the conversation and all the giggling, multiple people stepped inside. The sound of rushing water met my ears before the was a knock on my stall door.

I growled slightly. I did not need to deal with this shit now.

"It's occupied," I called out. "Get your own fucking stall."

"Oh my god Taylor, you're so rude!" one of the girls outside said, and I recognized the voice as my former best friend turned enemy, Emma Barnes. And then in a whisper that I was easily able to hear due to my enhanced hearing, she said, "Yeah, do it!"

Oh hell no. I wasn't about to let them do whatever the hell they wanted to do to me, consequences be damned. I stood up abruptly, grabbing my bookbag as I did so, unlatched the lock on the stall door, and _pushed_ my way out. For some reason the stall doors in this bathroom were made to open outward, not inward, and obviously whoever was on the other side of the door was trying to take advantage of that, pressing their full body weight against the door in an effort to box me in. But whoever she was, she wasn't stronger than me. Noone in this damn school was.

I easily overpowered the girl on the other side and knocked her back, the door slamming open as I did so. I didn't even look behind me to see who else other than Emma was there, though I did catch a glimpse of Madison standing to the side with a bottle of cranberry juice in hand. Ah, so that's what the little shits wanted to do. Splash juice all over me and my things while I was trapped in the stall. Well, fuck that. I was so close to punching their lights out, and anything else was probably just going to send me over the edge. And that would be very bad.

"Where are you going, Taylor?" Emma's very annoying voice rang out from behind me. "Going to cry yourself to sleep again?"

I stopped and very slowly turned my head to regard and triumphant looking Emma, Sophia, and Madison, trying to keep control of my rage before I turned their heads into a bloody mess on the floor. How dare this little piece of shit try to use my mother's death against me! Sure, I cried myself to sleep for a week afterwards, but who wouldn't be grieving after their mother had just died! And you little fuckwit Emma, just because I cried myself to sleep doesn't mean that you can't forget what you did. I can't believe that I used to think that you would be able to be friends with me again.

Some of my rage must've shown though because Madison, the little weak-willed shitstain, took a step back and said, "Um, Emma, I don't-" before a harsh glare from Sophia shut her up.

"I think you need something to cheer you up," Emma continued on without pause. "And I'm pretty sure getting sticky liquids all over your face always does that for you." At the end of that sentence, she gestured forward, and Sophia and Madison stepped up to splash their bottles of cranberry juice all over me, Madison noticeably hesitating before she did so.

I was already moving by time they threw the juice, so it hit nothing but air on its way to the floor. I stared at the puddle of juice on the floor for a moment before scoffing and making my way to the bathroom door. However, when I opened up the door, the need to have the last word, to get back at the asswipes that had made my life hell for one and a half years suddenly hit me like a freight train. I didn't know where it came from, or why I just got it now. Sure, I had been tempted to murder the Three Bitches before in horrific and brutal ways, but this wasn't like those times. Now, it was more of a need for them to have a taste of their medicine, even just a little taste. Physical violence was out, all they had to do was show any injuries or bruises to the staff and the staff would side with them, as they always had. But psychological torture was still in. I didn't know enough about Sophia or Madison to make a lasting impact. But Emma, I knew a lot about, and there was one specific piece of information that fit right in with situation.

I turned my head to regard Emma once again and said one very simple sentence. I said, "Don't forget Emma, that you cried too." The shocked look on her face brought a small smile to my face as headed outside and let the door slam shut behind me.

* * *

The rest of the school day went by pretty fast. Madison tried to steal my homework again, but a very heated glare warded her off. Madison never had as big of a spine the two remaining members of the Three Bitches, and was probably only part of it for the clout she got as a result. She was always a follower, and in a class where the leaders of the Bitches weren't present, she didn't have enough motivation to go through with the motion.

Apart from that, the school day after the bathroom incident went fine. Sure, there were some ignorable glares from Emma and Sophia and some immature taunts and jeers from the rest of their lackeys, but it wasn't anything I couldn't deal with. Or rather, it wasn't anything I would get overly mad at and go on a murder spree.

Anyway, the bus ride home went pretty well as well. Julie, one the Bitches' cronies that usually was on my bus, wasn't attending school that day, so I didn't have to deal with her, thankfully.

Also, it was a Friday so that meant I didn't have to deal with anyone else for two days.

At home, I wasn't surprised to find that my father wasn't there. He had been throwing himself into his work at the Dockworker's Union, so he often came back home late these days. It was unfortunate, but it was just how things were. I didn't want to talk to him about in fear of pushing him away even further, and I'm sure that's also why he didn't talk to me either.

But at what point does not talking to him become worse than talking to him. Hell, maybe it already is. Maybe we would be father and daughter again instead of just two strangers living in one house if one of us managed to work up the courage to tell the other that we needed to talk. Or maybe it would only complicates things, create new problems, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Fuck, I don't know what to do anymore.

* * *

**Honestly, writing this chapter made me think of Taylor triggering with the ability and mindset of the Doom Marine. I may just write an omake about it sometime in the future.**

**Feel free to point out any mistakes I have in this chapter.**

**Please review and shit.**


	3. 1-3

**Here's another one for you guys. Be aware that this fic is rated M for a reason.**

**Reviews:**

**TorrentAB: There will be revenge taken. Maybe not the revenge you're thinking of but there will be revenge.**

**Superpierce: There will be parasite action. Maybe not the parasite action you're thinking of but there will be parasite action.**

**zerochance117: Well, she's not gonna get the outfits of the Skulls because honestly they are way scantily clad but she will get some of the gear that they had.**

* * *

I dreamt good dreams that night.

_Madison ran straight into the alley at full sprint in a desperate bid to escape her pursuer, only to stop at the sight of a big black brick wall at the other end of the alley. She slowly turned to face the sight of me, quivering as she did so. I relished in the fear present in her face and the shaking of her body that she just couldn't seem to stop as she realized just how completely and utterly fucked she was. It was funny, watching the girl who had tormented me piss her pants at the sight of her supposedly weak victim. But then again, if was in her position, I would probably piss, well no, I would actually kick the ass of whoever was following me. But still, that didn't change the fact that I was a scary sight. I was ghastly figure, with unnaturally pale skin, glowing green eyes, and black smoke coming off me with green wisps of light interspaced in between._

"_H-H-H-Hey Ta-Talyor, can w-w-w-w-we talk about th-this," Madison managed to stammer out. It didn't help her at all as I took one large leap forward, placing me right in front of her, put one hand on her upper jaw and one hand on her lower, and pulled. There was a sickening crack as Madison's lower jaw came flying off, and blood sprayed everywhere. Madison fell back to the ground limp, and I looked at her one last time before I turned around and walked off with her jaw in my hand, leaving Madison to bleed out there alone._

Pleasant dreams.

_Sophia was making her way downtown, walking fast, until a big black rock came out of nowhere and speared her through her fucking thigh. She fell to the ground with a scream of pain. With a quick mental command, the rock in her thigh exploded, severing her leg and showering blood and gore everywhere. She screamed once again, too much in pain to focus on anything else but the pain. Thankfully, I could fix that._

_I flickered into being above her, grabbed the stick in her ass, and pulled it out. I raised it high above, and then brought it down on her head. The resulting crunch sound brought a smile to my face, so I brought it down again. And again. And again, until her head was a bloody paste on the floor._

Murderous dreams.

_I looked at the shaking, sobbing, scared mess in front of me, and compared the bitch to the Emma I knew in the past. An Emma who would go "ooh" and "ah" with whenever something caught our eye. An Emma who I would try and fail to make scrambled eggs with. An Emma who would dress up in costumes and play capes and criminals with me. An Emma who held me when my mom died, and cried when I cried._

_I compared to girl in front of me to the Emma of the past. And I killed the thing that took her place._

* * *

Holy fuck.

Holy fucking balls shit dick cunt asshole.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why the FUCK am I dreaming about killing people?

My eyes flew open and I stared at the ceiling above, breathing heavily as I did so. I wouldn't actually kill them, right?

Right?

FUCK. I don't know. I don't fucking know. I can control myself usually, but what if I snapped? What if I fucking snapped? I mean, with all the stress placed on me and the abuse I've suffered, something has to give, right? And with my abilities, it'll be a fucking massacre.

I hate them. I hate them so much. I would probably beat the shit out of them if I ever met them someplace or sometime I could do that without getting arrested. But I wouldn't actually kill them. I didn't want them to die.

Did I?

The sound of my alarm clock blared through the early morning silence and then abruptly stopped when my hand slammed down on top of it, smashing it into pieces.

I sat up, letting my legs stretch for a moment before I pushed them over the edge of the bed and stood up, trying to get my brain in proper working order and not have it freak the fuck out over this new… issue. I needed a little bit of… normalcy, yes normalcy, something normal to rein me and keep me calm. I quickly went through my morning routine; take a massive dump, brush my teeth, wash my face, change (my power makes that soooo much easier), and then went downstairs to have breakfast. Unlike yesterday however, my dad was still sleeping when I went down, which was more in line with what usually happens. Though, by the time I get back from my morning run, he'll probably be up. Thankfully, that should give me just to deal with the massive crisis going on in my head. Fucking hell, couldn't this day just be a simple fucking day? I'm really overdue for another one.

* * *

I was right, by the time I got back, dad was already up, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and a newspaper on the table in front of him.

"Oh, hey Taylor," Dad said. "How was your run?"

I closed the door behind me and locked it. He was actually talking to me instead of just acknowledging my existence like he usually does. Looks like today was gonna be one of our good days. "It was great. No cape fights, no idiots running around ruining my day," I said. I mean, if you didn't consider the fact that I was worrying over if I was a psychopath or not, then yeah it was great.

He still eyed me. "You still took the pepper spray, right?" he asked.

I took the aforementioned object out of my pocket to show him that yes, I did take the pepper spray. "I did. Besides, I've been doing these runs for the past three months, and I haven't been mugged yet," I told him. It technically was the truth, I had not been successfully mugged while I was out running. However, there was one person, a Merchant I think, who did _try_ to mug me with a huge ass machete. I ended up taking his wallet and his knife and left him lying on the ground, beaten, bruised, battered, and bashed. I didn't have to worry about him calling the police, because, you know, he's a mugger. I mean, can you imagine how that would go down?

'911 what's your emergency?'

'Help! I just tried to mug a girl, but she turned around and beat me up! Mugged me too while she was at it. Can you believe it?! Man, kids these days have no respect.'

'...'

'Hello! Can you hear me?'

'What's your location sir?'

'I'm on the corner of *blank* and *blank* street.'

'Understood sir. Police are on their way.'

I would pay to see that.

My dad got up from the table and moved to the front door. "Well," he said, grabbing his jacket off the coat hanger. "I got to go to work now. You'll be fine?"

I nodded once. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Stay safe," I told him. I'd probably just go to the Boardwalk and walk around. Maybe a small stroll along the beach or a nice cup of coffee could help me out. I didn't have anything else planned for today except for my debut as a cape, but I wouldn't be doing that until night. Hopefully my night as a cape would be able to help me vent my anger, to relieve my stress a little before something inside me went _SNAP_ and someone went _SPLAT_.

He nodded and went out the door. About 30 seconds later I hear the engine of dad's old pickup truck start up. Soon enough, the noise faded away as he pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

* * *

So I didn't go to the Boardwalk today. Apparently there was a big cape fight between the Protectorate and Empire Eighty-Eight earlier this morning. Weird, since the gangs don't usually conduct any sort of business near the Boardwalk. Sort of an unofficial truce area between the gangs and the Protectorate. Anyway, normally, this wouldn't have stopped me. I mean, its Brockton Bay for christ's sake, stuff like this happens on a daily basis. The problem was, that the fight tore up a lot of the Boardwalk, and so a portion of it was closed off from the rest of the public. Including the only place that didn't have ridiculously overpriced coffee. Damn. This day was not turning out to be the relaxing day I had envisioned.

So instead, I did school stuff for an hour. I was a smart girl and Winslow's standards were notoriously low, so it was pretty easy. No fucking challenge at all.

Second thing I did was research the Wards for a good bit. I really needed a way out of Winslow before I inevitably snapped. The Wards provided that way out. Everybody knew that the Wards went to Arcadia, hell, it was specifically built to house the Wards. A transfer out of that hellhole would be the best to happen to me in years. Who knows, maybe they'll actually get justice deliver unto my bullies. Sure, sending Sophia and Emma to jail wasn't the same as me knocking them the fuck out, but I'll take what I could get. And Madison, well I didn't really care what happened to her. She wasn't as hurtful as the rest of the Three Dumbass Motherfucking Whores and in recent months, she had been backing off. I mean, yeah I do want to punch her in her bitch ass face, but if she was just out of my life, I would be fine.

Also, Wards do make a rather large sum of money. At first it seems rather small. Their salary is only minimum wage. However, they also get $50,000 placed in a trust fund each year that they get access to when they turn eighteen They can also get a lot more money for overtime and hazard pay, which, when added up all together, makes for a lot of money. A hell lot of money. More importantly, it was money that we needed. We were barely getting by as it is, Dad's job as the head of hiring at the Dockworker's Union just barely giving us enough money to stay afloat. And if the Bay's economy slips even further into recession, then the Dockworker's Union itself might collapse and we would be up shit creek without a paddle.

So yeah, the Wards are really looking like a good option.

Also, what the fuck could I do if I became an independent? I would be alone, with no resources and no cape to back me up. I'm a strong cape, sure, but I'm not strong enough to withstand a dedicated response by any of the gangs. Except maybe the Merchants. But my point still stands. I wouldn't be able to change anything and Brockton Bay would still be the shit hole that it is today.

Way I see it, Brockton Bay's Protectorate and PRT are the best option here. People say they were more concerned with the status quo then they were with the citizens, but the fact of the matter was they focus more on preserving the status quo than they do on taking down the gangs because that's the only thing they can do. They don't have enough capes. If they went after one gang, there simply wouldn't be enough capes to hold the other gangs at bay. They would see the opportunity to expand while the Protectorate was distracted and take it. It would be a bloody warzone in Brockton Bay. So instead they focus on keeping the balance and only taking shots at the gangs when they show up rather than going after them actively.

It's also why the Protectorate and PRT in Brockton Bay were so PR heavy. They kept pumping out propaganda so that new capes would be more likely to join them and then, just maybe, they would finally be powerful enough to be able to take out the gangs once and for all.

Also, Endbringers played a large in why the Protectorate didn't go after the gangs in force but that's not important right now and holy shit I just realized I spent way more time than I expected on this. I blinked as I looked at the clock on the wall. It was fucking twelve already? Bloody hell time does fly by when you're focusing on something.

Okay, then, um, what should I do? Oh, I know! I should-

I stopped as a loud rumble echoed throughout the room, and I blushed slightly even though there was no one there with me. Alrighty then, I guess should go eat then.

You know, sometimes, I actually do forget that I have to eat.

* * *

**Feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made.**

**Please review and shit.**


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